


Got to Be Real

by TheShinySword



Series: Not a Gal, Not a Pal (Transdori Week 2020) [1]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Non-binary character, Sayo Hikawa: Lucky Lucky Lucky, Trans Female Character, Transdori Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword
Summary: Moca's got a milkshake and a secret to tell Sayo but Sayo is 20 years old and not ready to be a mentor.
Relationships: Aoba Moca & Hikawa Sayo, Aoba Moca/Shirasagi Chisato, Hazawa Tsugumi/Hikawa Sayo
Series: Not a Gal, Not a Pal (Transdori Week 2020) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933525
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76
Collections: Transdori Week 2020





	Got to Be Real

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Transdori week y'all! Yes i am going to be attempting another 7 day run, let's see if I can do it. In honor this series is a sequel to Holiday, my Rare pair week series. You absolutely do not have to read that one but there'll be some thematic tie ins and some continuity references (also you should read it it's good).

“So, um, how ya doing, Sayochi?”

The second Moca Aoba asked how she was doing, Sayo knew something was terribly wrong. She should have guessed at the wrongness of the situation when Moca asked her out to the nearest diner to enjoy refreshments and talk (specifically: “grab a milky-shake and chat”). Moca did not “chat”. She pried, she schemed, she asked entirely too personal questions about one’s love life but she never, ever cared “how ya doing”. Something was wrong.

Sayo’s mind immediately raced to Tsugumi—had something happened? But that initial panic was ill placed. After all, she’d been texting her girlfriend only minutes before meeting up with Moca and Tsugumi would never rely on Moca to relay unfortunate news. For a moment she wondered if it were some surprise planned for Tsugumi but if Moca was this distracted…

Her gaze wandered over Moca’s shoulder and the back of the cracking red vinyl booth and came to focus on the short order cook behind the diner counter, a twiggy young man her age with a scraggly beard and a spatula full of eggs. Unconsciously, her hand rose to her own face, thumb rubbing over the bottom of her chin. It was hairless of course, Sayo never forgot to shave and it was far too early in the day for the stubble to start rudely interrupting her skin but the assurance comforted her.

“I am fine, thank you.” Sayo’s attention snapped back to Moca who stabbed at her thick chocolate swirl milkshake with a straw two sizes too thin. “What can I do for you?” There was no point in beating around the bush.

But Moca didn’t respond. Instead she continued to fight with her straw, drilling it into the ice cream when stabbing failed to have the intended effect. They sat silently for a while, Moca struggling as Sayo enjoyed the fries purchased for her—was it a bribe?—while watching Moca’s eyes dart back and forth from the Sayo to her shake.

“Eh heh… you’re staring too hard at poor little Moca’s face~.” The straw finally broke through the last layer of milkshake with a sudden jerk. “Gonna pierce right through with those scaaary eyes.”

“Moca…”

Her shoulders shook with an exaggerated shudder. “Oooh that’s scarier.”

“Moca,” Sayo blinked slowly, as Yukina had taught her to when approaching a nervous stray cat. “Please tell me what’s on your mind?”

Moca sucked noisily on her straw. Though she’d broken through the frozen drink it still eluded the straw, it could only suck down air with a hollow gurgling vacuuming noise like water funneling out of a tub.

The sound stopped. Moca swallowed nothing before speaking in a small, hollow voice.

“You’re trans, right?”

Sayo did not need her to repeat. Her ears had been fine tuned to the word “trans” her whole life—as a beacon of hope, as a sign of kinship, and as a warning. It bothered her that she couldn’t tell how Moca intended it. What did the little pitch of Moca’s voice around the word mean? What did that inflection signal?

Her fingers sharply pinched a fry in two. Half fell into her ketchup, stuck upright like a crooked crone’s finger pointing accusingly at Sayo. Sayo tried to reassure her heart there was no reason for even the most cautious fear. Moca was one of Tsugumi’s best friends. Tsugumi would never be friends with someone who would judge Sayo. Besides, Tsugumi told them years ago about the sort of woman Sayo was so why take issue now?

But none of Sayo’s thoughts were as perturbing as the smile Moca forced onto her face—too wide to be anything but fake. “Ah ha~ Never mind never mind~. ‘Ol Moca had a stupid question to ask but it’s not important.”

Deja Vu rushed past Sayo’s cheek like an arrow fired too close for comfort by a rambunctious underclassman back in high school. A collage of memories formed in her mind: websites shut in a hurry, forum posts started and deleted, books she would permit herself to look at only for an instant before the truths they held became too much to bear. Denial was universal.

Sayo slowly and properly chewed the fry already in her mouth before folding her hands properly on the table before her. She swallowed and spoke. “Moca. What would you like to know?”

Moca’s eyes grew wide at the same rate her smile shrank. “Uh. Um. I…”

Sayo forced her eyebrows out of their usual default sternness and tried to soften her expression into patient seniority. Whatever odd question was on Moca’s mind she could—

“I don’t think I’m a girl.”

—Oh fuck.

Sayo Hikawa was 20 years old and absolutely not ready to be anyone’s role model.

Moca’s eyes squeezed shut. Her fists clenched around the plastic glass with its contents slowly melting into something drinkable. Sayo almost reached out to comfort her but she was so rarely physical with anyone outside of Tsugumi, at least not outside of the occasional Afterglow cuddle pile. So instead she waited.

Timidly—such a foreign expression on Moca’s face—Moca opened an eye as if checking to see why a bomb didn’t explode.

Sayo smiled. “Alright.”

“I don’t think I’m a boy either,” Moca relaxed a little—only a little, the claws were still ready.

Sayo’s eyebrows popped but she convinced the rest of her face to stay steady. “Alright.”

“I don’t know what I am.” Moca looked so small on her side of the booth outlined by the jagged cracks in the vinyl. She forced herself to laugh. “’Ol Moca’s a mystery as always.”

It was so familiar Sayo wanted to laugh, or maybe cry. She spent so many hours over so many years in private corners of the internet screaming to anyone who would listen about how foreign her own body felt to her, about how she didn’t know what she was as if she were a thing to be defined and classified and stuffed in a museum backroom and now here she was, a woman forged by the patience and time of so many wonderful women from the raw material of a terrified and confused child.

So, if Moca needed her, what choice did she have but to pay it forward?

“Moca.” Sayo picked her words carefully, trying to remember what she’d been told in times she only wanted to lash out. “Thank you for telling me. Have you talked to anyone about this before?”

“No.”

It was almost shocking as close as Afterglow was. But maybe that was why Moca reached out to Sayo. Sometimes these things were hardest to tell the people you cared for the most. Hina was the first person Sayo told in person but… they weren’t particularly close back then were they?

Moca’s hands kept twitching around—moving from the glass to the table to her hair, her chin, her pockets, anywhere they could land for a second before jumping somewhere else. Sayo continued to wait. Moca was like a river straining against a leaking dam—any moment she’d burst.

“It just feels, ya know, like if I’m not a beautiful girl then I’m supposed to be a hot dude—like you’re a red bean bun or you’re a cream bun and every once and a while someone mixes the red bean and cream and that’s cool but maybe I’m not a bun! And that’s just kind of weird. Right? Not being a bun?” Moca ran her hand through her hair. Silver hair flooded through her fingers. “Maybe ‘ol Moca isn’t making any sense.”

“You’re not,” Sayo sighed affectionately. “But that’s alright. It’s true that there are… red bean buns and cream buns.” What an odd metaphor, but if it worked for Moca… “But I think you are still thinking in a binary.”

“Breanary,” Moca giggled under her breath.

“Perhaps you could think of it as a set of ingredients, and yes they’re often used to create one of those buns but they can be turned into all sorts of things. Maybe you’re a cake in a world of buns.”

“That’d be pretty hard to do with those ingredients.”

“I apologize for my culinary ignorance.” Sayo paused before pressing forward with the words that had helped her so long ago. “What you feel is real Moca. I might not have felt that exact thing but I can tell you it’s real.”

Slowly, Moca’s guard began to lower. The tension in her face started to melt like the milkshake in her hand.

Sayo pressed on. “Hina would probably be more help than myself. This is…” Hina left their apartment that morning in a salmon colored shirt and Hina insisted on defying gendered expectations—even when Hina’s entire existence was already a personified middle finger in the face of gender—so today Hina was using, “… more of his jurisdiction.”

Moca lifted her glass up to the light, swirling the frozen chunks inside. “Yeah but Hina… It kind of feels like Hina can do things the rest of us can’t.”

“You have no idea how true that is…”

“Kinda feels like Moca’s being reaaal selfish. Like what’s wrong with this gender my mom served me up? How can I just want to throw it in the trash?” Moca’s shoulders sunk.

“Do you want permission to be not cis?”

“I—no—I—” Moca’s face was a roulette of confusion. “Can you do that?”

Sayo folded her hands on the table and summoned the sort of authority she used to wield on the student council in high school. “I give you permission to not be cisgendered, Moca.”

“Oh.” An unsteady but brilliant smile began to grow on her face. “Thanks Sayochi.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.”

“Hey…” Moca stretched her arms up above her head, cracking her neck before slouching back down in her seat. “I’m thinkin’ I want to tell everyone else. Even if I’m not really certain of everything, yet.”

“Would you like me to be there?”

Moca laughed, for real this time. “Sayochi~ it’ll be an Afterglow meeting.”

Sayo balked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You have to be there~. Attendance is mandatory~. You and…” Moca chewed on her lower lip. “Chisato.”

Sayo had always known Chisato to be a supportive person, even if she masked that support in a layer of ice. More importantly, she knew Chisato to be deeply in love, though Moca knew that better than Sayo could ever say. Still. Some things felt impossible to discuss. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll be there at your side.”

“Hehe, thanks Sayo. You’re kind of cool, you know that?”

“I don’t know if that’s true but thank you Moca.” Sayo smiled. “I’m happy to answer any questions you may have.”

Moca’s eyes shone with mischief and Sayo instantly knew she’d made a slight miscalculation. Moca sucked down a gulp of finally melted milkshake and grinned. “Any questions?”

* * *

Moca’s plan was very simple.

First, she would shut off all the lights in Hazawa Coffee, save for one spotlight fixed to the ceiling and pointed at one very large box tied with a large green bow—had to be green, very important detail. Her friends would begin to arrive with their monogrammed invitations to a “gender reveal party” in hand and become intrigued by the large box awaiting them. Tsugumi would try to control everyone but Tomoe would get tired of waiting about three minutes after arriving and pull open the box revealing an equally large tiered cake.

Then Himari, completely incapable of holding back from the promise of freshly baked goods, would pick up the conveniently placed knife and cut into the cake. But just as she did, the cake would begin to OOZE black sludge (hot fudge) all over the floor. Amongst her friends’ screams of terror, thunderous music would begin to play and Moca would finally burst from within the cake, covered with slime and shouting, “Gender is a lie!”

And that would be that.

But unfortunately she wasn’t very good at baking cakes and had no idea where she could buy an oversized box and thirty five kilos of hot fudge. Besides she’d need someone to help her out and right now Sayo was Moca’s only option. Sayo was many things but “accomplice in mischief” was not one she seemed willing to add to the list.

So instead Moca texted the “Afterglow + Sayo + Chisato” group chat to meet her at Hazawa Coffee after closing and resolved to loiter around in the coffee shop and prepare for the worst. No really much different than her usual afternoon activities, except the worst didn’t usually involve everyone she cared about abandoning her.

Moca let her head thud against the table, blowing the muffin crumbs around her empty plate. ‘Course every time Moca worried about her friends abandoning her she got a special bonus round of guilt for assuming the worst of the people she supposedly loved the most. They loved her. They loved _her._ Would they love Moca if Moca wasn’t her?

The doorbell tingled. Thunderous footsteps crashed Moca’s pity party with an irritated, exhausted groan.

“I hate that woman!” Ran threw herself into the seat across from Moca, flames metaphorically bursting from the sides of her face.

Moca immediately perked up, no time for sulking when there was teasing to be had. “How’s Yukina doing then~?”

“Miserable.” Ran drew herself upright with stiff shoulders and blank expression. “‘Mitake. I do not understand this metaphor. Mitake. I think there is too much emotionality in this verse. Mitake. Reach around and pull the stick from my posterior.” She collapsed back into her seat with crossed arms and grumbled words. “She asked ME to help HER write a new song for Roselia’s Pride Fest set. Don’t get why she did that if she hates me so much.”

“Hehe, probably cause she wants to look at _your_ posterior.”

Ran wrapped her red streak of hair around her finger. The anger had abandoned her cheeks but a blush kept them red. “I doubt it.”

Ran’s long _long_ term crush on Yukina was one of those universal truths Moca had come to rely on for a sense of normalcy. “But maybe~.”

A sharp sting burst on Moca’s forehead as Ran flicked her. “Owowowowow.” She recoiled back, nursing the new red mark from Ran’s wicked fingernail. “Bullying!”

“Fighting back against a bully isn’t bullying.”

“Boo hoo~.” Moca sniffled. “Moca’s gonna cry.”

“Get your girlfriend to comfort you.”

“She bullies me too~.”

“You probably ask for it.”

Moca winked. “I do~.”

“Not like that!”

“You could have a girlfriend who bullies you too if you just told Yukina how you feel!”

“MOCA!” Ran grabbed the nearest harmless object—a Hazawa coffee coaster—and chucked it at her little stinker of a best friend.

But Moca was too quick when it didn’t matter and ducked just in time for the cardboard coaster to frisbee over her head and directly into the innocent bystander behind her.

“HIMARI!” Ran shouted as Moca let out a little, “Oh no.”

The coaster bounced harmlessly off the tip of Himari’s nose and fell to the ground. Poor Himari took the light poke hard. She swayed dramatically as if the injury(?) was simply too much to bear before falling into a chair like a modern fainting couch with her hand over her forehead and a fluttering sigh on her lips.

Tomoe approached with a wave and a toothy grin, bending down to grab the coaster before placing a hand on the back of her girlfriend’s chair. “Babe, you okay?”

“No,” Himari pouted. “I’ve been murdered…”

Tomoe wrapped her arms around Himari from the back, settling her chin on Himari’s forehead. “Aww, I’m sorry. You want me to avenge you?”

“No… just go on without me,” Himari sniffed loudly in Tomoe’s arms, completely unable to hide the smile growing on her face, before Tomoe grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and pulled it next to Himari’s. They splayed between the two chairs like a makeshift loveseat. Himari’s legs were over Tomoe’s lap before she’d even totally sat down.

“Gay,” Moca snickered.

“Yup!” Tomoe grinned. She turned towards the front where Tsugumi sweetly waved goodbye to her last customer as Sayo in her matching Hazawa Coffee apron began to pull down the blinds beside her. “Yo Tsugu! You need us to help clean up?”

“We’ve got it!” Tsugumi called back as she flipped the open sign on the door.

Everything felt so wonderfully normal. They’d done it, made it past high school and into college with their closeness still intact. But the feeling that usually made Moca feel so certain in herself and her place in the world sunk from her heart into her stomach like a lump of sour milk. The dread of anticipation boiled her insides. Why’d Moca have to make everything complicated?

She was probably just faking these feelings anyway. What did “I’m not a girl but I’m not a boy” mean anyway? Typical Moca stuff. Looking for attention, wanting to be special, blah blah. Shit, she should just call it all off. Play it off as a little Moca joke…

Moca tried to look anywhere but at her friends chatting about their day. How was she supposed to explain this stuff to them when she didn’t get it herself? What if she changed her mind? What if she didn’t? What if…? What if…? What if…?

Sayo waved from across the room. Her thumb curled upwards as if Sayo had read about a thumbs up but never tried it for herself before.

But Sayo said her feelings were real and Sayo knew way more about this stuff than Moca… so… so maybe… Maybe things could be okay.

The doorbell tingled again.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Practice ran long.”

Moca’s head turned like a sunflower chasing the sun.

Chisato pushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear in the absent minded way she only could when she was alone with friends and didn’t have to think through her every movement. She’d always looked mature but now, with years separating her from a school uniform, she looked like the serious adult Moca tried to silently remind her she didn’t have to be all the time.

She’d spent all day in meetings instead of on set—Moca could tell by her makeup. It appeared light—though Moca knew from hours of watching Chisato work at her vanity it was heavy makeup carefully layered to give the illusion she didn’t try at all but still somehow looked perfect—except for her ruby red lipstick, something she could only wear when she did her makeup herself. Moca’s favorite.

Chisato smiled at each of their friends in turn and then finally allowed herself to look at Moca. Two years in and Moca’s heart still jumped a little when their eyes met. She joined Moca and the others at the table, her hand briefly resting on Moca’s shoulder as she pulled out a chair for herself. Moca leaned her cheek against Chisato’s hand in return—their version of a hello kiss.

Usually Chisato’s touch made everything feel manageable, today it just made Moca’s nerves worse. Chisato was pretty much the best thing that had ever happened to Moca and she was pretty sure she’d at least make Chisato’s top ten list. Why wreck it with uncertainty?

“Moca!” Tsugumi chirped cheerfully, joining them around the table that was meant for three, maybe four people, not seven. “What did you want to talk about?”

Everyone looked at her with friendly, oblivious smiles. They thought she was going to announce something fun, some Mocatastic stunt, a big prank they could all laugh about. They didn’t know… they didn’t know.

Jeez. Was it always so hot in Hazawa Coffee?

Moca nudged her chair close to Chisato’s, not close enough to touch but close enough to earn Ran’s ire. She couldn’t bother to revel in her best friend’s irritation. Really she wanted to bury herself in her girlfriend’s arms so she couldn’t see anyone’s face or hear anything but her heartbeat. But that was just the urge to run away… Moca didn’t have a fight or flight instinct, just flight flight flight.

Sayo arrived behind Tsugumi. She stayed standing with her hand on Tsugumi’s chair and her eyes set on Moca. Moca never realized how kind Sayo’s eyes could be. It was almost enough to keep her from panicking.

Almost.

Unfortunately, her heart had other ideas. As the silence fell over her nearest and dearest Moca’s heart tried to fill it with pounding, thumping beats. Her lungs followed, forcing air in and out of her chest far faster than her mouth could keep up with. Without meaning to, Moca fell forward with her hands outstretched against the lacquered wood as she tried badly to get her panting under control.

“Moca?” Six confused voices said in concerned staccato.

She couldn’t answer them. She could only stare at the wood grain and try to figure out how to wiggle out from ruining her life.

There was a shuffle behind her. Quick footsteps. And then, arms hovering around her chest and lips at her ear speaking in the calm, even tone she needed to hear. “May I hug you, Moca?”

Moca nodded frantically and Sayo wrapped tightly around her chest. She’d never been hugged by Sayo—had only really seen her get cuddly with Tsugumi during movie nights or Tomoe with a guilty sort of pleasure—but she really got Tsugumi when Sayo held her. There was so much security in Sayo’s grip, like Sayo could take care of everything for her.

“I apologize for my presumption,” Sayo addressed everyone else. “But I’d like to call for an Afterglow cuddle pile.”

Maybe there were murmurs of agreement but Moca couldn’t really hear anymore. She focused on what she could feel. Sayo around her chest like a tight vest. Then Tomoe’s scent, fruity shampoo and a little sweat, enveloped Moca from the side and quickly all her friends followed. Himari’s hands squeezed her knees, Tsugumi’s head laid sweetly on Moca’s shoulders, whispering comforting words of support and love, and Ran came in from the side, clinging around Moca’s waist in the sort of display she avoided unless she deemed it absolutely necessary.

And finally, slender fingers wrapped around Moca’s hand and squeezed in a promise of support.

Her family was there. Her family loved her. No matter who Moca was.

All Moca had to do was let them in a little.

“I’m not a girl.”

And they’d take the rest from there.

* * *

It was the strangest feeling in the world but as Sayo stood patiently by the entrance to Hazawa Coffee, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for Tsugumi to emerge from the back, she realized she loved her life. As long as she could remember there was little voice in the back of her mind with an unsteady screech and terrible claws ready to tell her deserved all the nastiness in the world and for the first time, it occurred to Sayo that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard it. She wasn’t exactly sure when things changed from the dread that filled her early teens to the joy of her early twenties but she knew she had a life worth living with so many people worth loving in it. Sayo was lucky.

“Are you ready to go?” Tsugumi joined Sayo by the exit, tapping her shoe against the floor and smiling radiantly at Sayo.

“Mm,” Sayo nodded with a murmur and held the door open for her girlfriend.

Tsugumi giggled at the chivalry but accepted happily and one after another they made their way out of the shop, locking the door behind them and their arms together as they did.

Sayo’s heart rose with every conjoined step. What a wonderful pattern they’d fallen into. They would wander slowly down the street to the station where they would catch a train to Sayo apartment. There they would chat and unwind and relax before falling asleep in Sayo’s bed and waking up in each other’s arms and get to do it all over again. Lucky.

“Thank you Sayo,” Tsugumi clutched her arm a little tighter than usual.

Sayo’s eyebrows rose. “For what?”

“For helping Moca.”

Sayo stopped walking. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “No, that wasn’t—.” But it was. She’d just talked to Moca about her own experiences, just been there like she’d wanted someone to be there for her and that… had helped Moca.

Lips pressed tenderly against her cheek. Sayo balked and pulled back slightly from Tsugumi. Tsugumi smiled, replacing her lips with her fingers and brushing unshed tears from Sayo’s eyes. “Thank you.”

This time Sayo nodded, “I’m… glad I was able to be there for her.”

“When I think about how much Moca’s been struggling on her own with this I—” Tsugumi sniffed. She cuddled Sayo’s arm as close to herself as she could. “It’s like when I think about you.”

“Me?” Sayo’s head cocked like a dog hearing her name.

“As a kid.” Tsugumi’s eyes were far away, probably picturing the old photos Hina had shown her before Sayo hid the album. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

Sayo raised Tsugumi’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re here for me now. I prefer that. I’m very lucky.”

Tsugumi giggled, “I’m the lucky one.”

It still boggled her mind to try to imagine what Tsugumi saw when she looked at Sayo. How she didn’t just forgive Sayo’s flaws but accepted them, even loved some of them. Truly, Sayo was lucky but perhaps she could settle on, “We’re both lucky.”

“Sayo… you’ve gotten pretty smooth haven’t you?”

“Eh?”

Tsugumi leaned her head on Sayo’s shoulder. “Nothing, let’s go home.”

She was lucky indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friends [Demonladys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonladys/pseuds/demonladys) and [Silversilky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversilky/pseuds/silversilky) for reading this through for me, make sure to check out their Transdori week content. They are, as always, great inspirations to me. 
> 
> Title from the CLASSIC disco song Got to Be Real by Cheryl Lynn. We had a shit pride month this year so I'm demanding a do over!
> 
> Moca currently uses she/her pronouns.


End file.
